


Doctor

by pauldw



Category: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23579671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauldw/pseuds/pauldw





	Doctor

Chapter 1: Typical Morning

Chapter Text  
“Mommy, wakey.”

The corner of Natasha’s lips turn upward into a small smile when she hears that soft and melodious voice whisper in her ear. She wrinkles her nose when she feels a small hand tap her on the cheek, a small giggle following after. It’s silly, how, after days and days of experiencing the same thing over and over again, this simple act that wakes her up every morning still makes her heart flutter. Over time in her life, she had learned to never take things in life for granted, and this is for sure of the many things about the owner of the soft and small giggles that she will never learn to take for granted.

“Mommy, wakey.” The little boy practically whines, laughter lacing in her small voice, just as Natasha pulls her small body closer to her, and she giggles just as Natasha starts pressing soft kisses on her face. Even without opening her eyes, Natasha can imagine her beautiful smile as she listens to her soft laughter.

It’s the most wonderful thing to wake up to.

Natasha opens her eyes as she pulls away from the little boy slowly, and the toddler falls back on the pillow beside her mother’s, grinning up at her. Natasha chuckles, pressing a soft kiss on the boy’s blonde hair.

“What’s got my little boy up so early again?” she asks softly, smiling as the toddler laughs softly. She knows it's part of the routine, but she likes hearing her son say it for herself.

“Doctors wake early!” the toddler exclaims, and Natasha grins.

“You a doctor too, hm?” she asks, pressing a kiss on the boy’s cheek as she scoops her in her arms, cradling her close to her chest, and the little boy hums, leaning forward to rub her nose against her mother’s as Natasha smiles. “Gonna be a doctor like Mommy when you grow up?”

“Yeah, yeah!” she responds excitedly, and Natasha chuckles, pressing another kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Thank you for waking Mommy early.” she says softly.

It’s not new—her little boy waking her up very early in the morning just in time for her to wake up for work, but she likes saying thank you nonetheless, if it’s something that would put a smile on her toddler’s face. She somehow serves as Natasha’s alarm clock, with Natasha waking up to her little boy’s whispers asking her to wake up just in time for her to prepare before her shift starts. It’s a hit and miss thing, as sometimes her little boy wakes her up too early for her liking and, God forbid, other times, her little boy wakes her up a little later than necessary (and she oversleeps which is totally Natasha's own fault) , while on other times, she wakes up earlier than her toddler. But even then, she doesn’t use an alarm clock, or doesn’t set an alarm in her phone to wake her up, because she likes it when her son’s voice is the first thing she hears, and her face is the first thing she sees when she wakes up.

Besides, her little boy’s body clock adapts quickly too. They haven’t had a single early-slash-late waking stint in the last three weeks, all without an alarm clock, and she’s pretty damn proud of it.

Natasha stretches, just as the little boy rolls of her mother’s arms and lays down on the bed as she stretches for herself too. When she gets up, the little boy extends her arms so her mother can pick her up, and they have breakfast together, just like any other typical morning routine. Natasha will make toast for herself, while she prepares the toddler’s bowl of cereals too. The toddler will babble about her dream and usually about her previous day in daycare too, and Natasha will listen attentively, ask questions and ask her son to continue too. They will eat breakfast together like that, Natasha with her cup of coffee and toast, and her toddler with her own bowl of cereal, over stories, laughter and affectionate cuddles and kisses usually initiated by the toddler to her mother.

She’s sweet like that, and it makes Natasha’s mornings even brighter before it even officially starts.

Natasha would bathe her, and they would play with the toddler’s rubber duckies and dolls in the tub, but she will be quick to remind the toddler that doctors should never be late, so even if they’re in the middle of their game with her son about to proceed to the climax of the story where the rubber ducky saves the princess doll, the little boy would obey her mother when she tells her that playtime is over. Her toddler is not a difficult one, even at two-and-a-half years old, she’s a smart little boy who understands and appreciates what her mother does for living. It's a bonus that she's pretty obedient too, which means life is less difficult for Natasha as a mother. And so Natasha would dry themselves, and dress up just in time to give them a half-hour travel time from her apartment to the hospital she works in, which is only really just a fifteen-minute drive, but she doesn’t like to rush.

They would sing along to Disney songs requested by her son, as she sits in the back buckled in her carseat, and Natasha drives through the usual Manhattan traffic. Natasha would smile at her son’s small giggles and laughter every time they would finish a song, and would indulge her when the toddler would request a repetition of the same song they had just listened and sang along too. They would really only reach up to five songs at most, most of which would be comprised of a three-time repetition of one song, and a two-time repetition of another, but it’s not something Natasha would complain about. She would usually find herself singing those songs to herself in the operating room while in surgery, or even while filling up charts, but it’s fine. It reminds her of her son’s soft voice and melodious laughter, and it would be enough to make a rough day brighter.

That’s a typical morning for Natasha Romanoff, a thirty-three-year-old attending neurosurgeon at the SHIELD New York Hospital in Manhattan, and a single mother to a two-and-a-half-year-old beautiful toddler, James Romanoff-Rogers.

She parks in her usual spot, and turns the engine off. She looks back at her son. “Ready for another day, little love?” she asks, and James nods excitedly and enthusiastically that it’s almost hard to believe she doesn’t do this everyday. Oh the joys of being young.

“Will Auntie Wanda be there?” she asks, and Natasha smiles.

“Auntie Wanda and I have work to do, but maybe we’ll see her before we go up to daycare.” Natasha assures her, and the toddler squeals as Natasha chuckles softly. She mentally notes of her schedule, and remembers that she has a surgery with Wanda in the morning, so perhaps her son might see her favorite resident by the surgical floor when Natasha drops her things off.

Natasha grabs her things and unbuckles her son, scooping her in her arms as she presses a kiss on her son’s blonde hair. James wiggles in her mother’s arms, and Natasha puts her down, holding her hand as they enter the hospital together.

James smiles and greets everyone she recognizes: from guards to nurses to doctors, effectively putting a smile on everyone’s faces including Natasha. When they get in the surgical floor, James gasps when she sees Wanda in her scrubs filling in some charts, as the brunette turns and around and grins when she sees James.

“Auntie Wanda!” James exclaims, as Natasha lets her son’s hand go so she can run off the short distance between the elevator and the nurse’s station where Natasha’s resident is. Wanda scoops James in her arms and embraces her closely.

“How’s our little doctor doing?” she asks softly, and James giggles, wrapping her arms around Wanda’s neck and burying her face in her long wavy hair. She’s always been close, James and Wanda, always has been since she was born. Ever since Wanda had dedicated herself to be under Natasha’s wing, she and Natasha had developed a close sisterly friendship outside of their professional one, so it’s no wonder that Natasha’s son would be close to Wanda too as she had practically been raised around Wanda too.

“She wants to see her Auntie Wanda before going up to daycare,” Natasha says, and Wanda turns and smiles as Natasha rests her bag on the counter, nodding as a nurse gives her some reports and charts. “Figured you’d need a little bit of a breather too since we’re about to have a long day.”

Wanda hums. “Would be surprised if we wouldn’t. Typical neuro stuff,” she says, and she faces James again. “You’re just what I need to get through my and your Mommy’s surgery.”

“Will you save someone, Auntie Wanda?” James asks in a small voice, and Wanda nods.

“Your Mommy and I have lots of lives to save today,” she says. “And you’re just the right amount of energizer we need so we can survive a tiring day.”

“Is that my favorite little boy’s voice?”

Natasha turns and sees Bucky, in his scrubs and white coat walk over to the counter, surrendering a binder over to one of the nurses who retrieve it back from him. James squeals and extends her arms over to Bucky who takes the little boy and presses a kiss on her cheek. Natasha smiles at him. “Knew I heard your voice from the attendings' lounge, could hear it from far away.” he says.

“Is my little princess’ voice a little loud?” Natasha asks, grabbing her bag and the reports and walking over to Bucky. She smiles and leans to press a kiss on James’s cheek, and she giggles.

“That, or we’re just a little too sensitive in hearing a certain little boy’s bright and bubbly voice,” Bucky responds, pressing a kiss on James’s hair. “Saw your name on the board, you and Maximoff have surgery in an hour?”

“We sure do,” Natasha says, and she looks at Bucky. “Slow day today?”

“Got nothing but monitoring,” he says, smirking. “If you need some ortho consult with your cases, come hit me up.”

Natasha grins. Bucky is an orthopedic attending surgeon, one of her closest friends and co-workers too. It had been weird—their friendship, because of his history of tight friendship with Natasha’s ex-lover and James’s father, but he had stuck by Natasha’s side when he hadn’t, and because of that, Natasha will forever be grateful for him. Besides, James adores her Uncle Bucky, since he’s also pretty much one of the most consistent figures in the young boy’s life who takes turns with the others in playing with her and taking care of her should Natasha be stuck in a long grueling surgery.

“I don’t think we need one, though, unless you can put in some ortho consult in arteriovenous malformations mixed with aneurysmal expansion, we could surely use more hands.” Natasha explains, and Bucky grimaces.

“That surgery sounds long.” he comments, and Natasha hums, smoothing James’s cheek while she plays with Bucky’s shirt collars.

“She’s counting on it,” Wanda says, and Natasha looks at her, smiling as she winks at the resident. Wanda chuckles. “Just gonna grab some coffee from the lounge. Will be back once you bring James to daycare.”

Natasha nods, just as Wanda walks over to press a kiss on the toddler’s cheek. “See you later, peanut.”

“Bye bye, Auntie Wanda!” James exclaims, waving her hand, as Wanda chuckles and waves back as she walks off to the residents' lounge. Bucky looks back and ensures Wanda is out of earshot before turning back to James. He smooths her blonde wavy hair and smiles when James looks up at him.

“Looking more and more like you everyday,” he comments quietly, and Natasha gives him a small smile. “Except for the blonde.”

“The blonde’s from him, for sure,” she responds quietly, and Bucky gives her a sad smile, as Natasha rubs her nose against James’s soft cheek. “You have any news on him?” Bucky snorts.

“If I did, would you wanna hear it?”

“Just making sure he’s not dead or something,” she says, shrugging, just as Bucky smirks, and Natasha sighs. “If you did, I didn’t wanna hear it.”

“You, me, and the rest of our friends combined,” Bucky says, and Natasha smirks. “I could bring her up to daycare if you wanna go prep for surgery and stuff.”

“Coming up with an excuse to kidnap my son again, Barnes?” she asks, and Bucky laughs softly.

“Wouldn’t ask for your permission if I did. ‘Sides, Stark and Barton could use a smile, and I’m sure James will appreciate seeing his two uncles post-op, won’t you, princess?” Bucky asks, and James giggles.

“Wanna see Uncle Tony and Uncle Clint.” she says, and Natasha chuckles, shaking her head. Tony and Clint, another two of James’s constant figures in her life, both of them Natasha’s close friends and co-workers too. Tony is an attending for plastics, while Clint is under pediatric surgery. She does recall them telling her of a surgery they were working on for a kid in the burn section, so she figures this operation is the one Bucky’s referring to that they are just getting out of.

“Okay. Don’t forget to tell your Uncle Tony and Uncle Clint I say hi, little one,” she says softly, leaning to press a kiss on James’s cheek as she nods. “I’ll come up after Mommy’s surgery, okay? You go with Uncle Bucky ‘cause he’s gonna bring you to daycare.”

“Mommy eat?” James asks, and Natasha nods, humming.

“I’ll come get you later lunch, okay?” she says, and the toddler nods as Natasha presses another kiss on her forehead. “I love you, James.”

“Love you, Mommy.” James responds, and Natasha smiles.

“Barnes, daycare.” Natasha reminds, just as Bucky begins to walk off carrying James with her, and the man chuckles.

“Where’s the trust in there, Doctor Romanoff?” he asks, and Natasha chuckles softly, shaking her head as she watches Bucky turn to the corner in another hall with James, saying something to the little boy as she laughs, her small laughter ringing in the hallway just as she and Bucky disappear from the hallway Natasha is in.

Natasha turns to the other hallway and proceeds to the attendings' lounge, putting her bag in her locker and retrieving and changing into her scrubs, putting on her white coat. She opens her bag and grabs her small notebook and set of pens, and ties her wavy red hair into a ponytail. She grabs the charts, and opens it, reviewing as she walks out of the attendings' lounge and into the hallway.

She reviews the patient’s stats, as she should. She’s familiar with him, of course, has met with him a couple of times for consults and pre-op procedures: Vincent Karasev, 41 years old, male, as he had been one of her regular patients since his initial diagnosis of symptomatic epilepsy and aneurysm in his right anterior cerebral artery. He is a loving husband to a wife, Melinda Karasev, 40 years old, and a good father to their two children: Heather and Morris Karasev, 10 and 8 years old respectively. She had met the Karasev family, and they are a bunch of pleasant people, and she knows how much they trust her into this operation that may save Vincent’s life.

It’s important that she knows all of this, of course. Rule number one is to treat your patient like people, he had told her once, a long time ago before there even became a them, before she loved him, before he loved her and walked away. If it helps knowing who their family is for you to see them as people and not just bodies, then do it.

He may have gone, and she may have been hating him with every inch of her body since he had left, but it’s one of the many things he had taught her that she will never forget: to be a doctor is to be human, and to see humans in bodies as well.

“Hey, you ready?” Natasha looks up and smiles as she finds Wanda walking up to her, a cup of coffee in hand. She smiles at the younger woman, and closes the charts as she nods.

“Let’s do this.”


End file.
